NEW YORK

Then came the virus. And it all stood still. I broke the city into pieces. I made a mosaic of streets; graphics abstracted in my view. Like subway tiles. Then, the park: the tension between the organic lines of the trees curving upward in defiance of the relentless geometry. March grew into an oblivion called April. Which in turn stretched into May. My mind forgot the origins of this work. My eye did not. Following the path of shadows down streets nearly empty of life. Documenting a landscape so utterly changed and still so new. Placing the pieces. Dissecting spaces. Looking for grace in the curve of a shadow.